


i don't wanna go a (cold) day without you

by thegrayness



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: 5+1 Things, Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex, Sleepy Kisses, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 01:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20957918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrayness/pseuds/thegrayness
Summary: Five times Patrick was cold (and David warmed him up), and one time he was nice and toasty (also because David warmed him up). Kind of.





	i don't wanna go a (cold) day without you

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver) collection. 

> **Prompt:**  

> 
> Patrick’s feet are always cold (maybe because David tends to keep the apartment cooler) and David hates when he wears socks but he also hates Patrick’s cold feet. 
> 
> Be creative! The only real guideline here is that the it includes cold feet and socks.
> 
> Heavy-handed help from [redacted], seriously you would not be reading this without her. So the fic doesn't match the prompt exactly but it's close enough, I think (I HOPE). Also like, yes it's a 5+1, but I wrote a bit before I realized it was a 5+1, and I liked part of it so I kept it in the beginning, it's fine. If there is any part of this that doesn't make sense, it's my fault, and please just ignore it. 
> 
> Title from Warm Me Up by The Audition.

David yawned as he shuffled around Patrick’s kitchen—well… _ their _ kitchen. It was their very first morning as officially living together, they’d spent most of the previous day moving David’s things into Patrick’s apartment. David smiled at the thought that now it really was _ theirs_. He started the coffee maker and put the kettle on so it would be ready when Patrick got out of the shower. 

Coffee poured and fixed, David lounged on the couch with his steaming mug until Patrick emerged from the bathroom, looking delicious in just his boxer briefs. “Oh, _ hello_,” David said, unfolding his legs and sitting up straight. He put his coffee on the table and got up to intercept Patrick on his way to the closet, pulling him close immediately. Patrick’s skin was clammy from the steamy bathroom and he smelled of lavender and lemon and David kissed his bare shoulder, licking up the leftover moisture. He dug his fingertips into the softness around Patrick’s hips as he leaned in close to plant a wet kiss on Patrick’s mouth. 

Patrick made a surprised noise, but responded in kind, bringing his hands up to grip David’s biceps, tongue licking into David’s mouth. They kissed for longer than David intended, but then didn’t they always? David wound his arms all the way around Patrick’s waist, bringing them chest to chest while Patrick slid his palms along David’s shoulders to rest them on the curves of his neck. Patrick’s mouth was soft and so hot and David pressed in closer, if it was even possible. 

“David,” Patrick mumbled against his mouth. “The tea.”

David pulled away and blinked, thinking Patrick was about to share some juicy gossip he’d heard from someone on the baseball team, but the piercing sound of the kettle managed to wade through his kissing-Patrick-brain-fog, and he jumped at the sound. 

Leaving David with a smooch to the cheek, Patrick headed over to the kitchen to fix his tea.  


**1.**

“Okay, David,” Patrick said as he dropped his bag by the front door of their apartment. “I think we have to talk about the apartment’s temperature for the winter.” Patrick swapped his light coat for a zip-up hoodie. 

“It’s not winter,” David said. He was lounging on their bed with a thick novel open in his lap, but he’d been scrolling through his phone for the last ten minutes stuck in a #studioapartmentdecor spiral. 

“And yet _ you _ are snuggled up in bed with a fluffy sweater on,” Patrick insisted, and David watched him walk over to the thermostat to change it to an incorrect temperature. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Patrick. I’m _ always _ snuggled up in bed with a fluffy sweater on.” 

“You are right about that, babe.” Patrick leaned over for a kiss, pulling away far too early for David’s taste. “But we can’t keep it the temperature of a refrigerator. I’m sure your snuggly sweater time will still be viable.” He rubbed up and down David’s arm, pinching the material of his sweater between his fingers. 

David hummed and looked up at Patrick through his lashes. “Maybe you could join me for snuggly sweater time one day.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Mm, maybe I will.”

* 

“Honey, your feet are freezing,” David said a few months later right after he kicked his own feet out to rub against Patrick's.

“I _ know, _ David, because you keep turning the thermostat down so you can wear even _ more _ layers.” Patrick pulled his feet away from David’s but rolled over to face him. David could barely make out Patrick’s expression in the dark, but he could guess it wasn’t happy. 

“Okay, but you _ did _ say you liked my layers....”

Patrick reached out to pull David closer and David went, settling into his fiance’s arms. “Yes, I love your everything. I just don’t think I love the thermostat this low.”

David could concede that point, and he guessed he could make it a few degrees warmer at night. 

**2.**

Two nights after the shock of Patrick’s ice-cold feet, David had picked up Patrick’s favorite ice cream on his way home. Well, it wasn’t on his way, but he knew Patrick had been working hard on their end-of-year numbers and things, and he wanted to show his appreciation in the form of a treat that… benefited them both. Strawberries & Cream for Patrick and Chocolate Milk & Cookies for David. 

“Cheers!” David said, clinking his bowl against Patrick’s where they sat pressed together on the couch, making Patrick laugh delightedly before they both dug in. David loved making Patrick laugh more than anything. Patrick adjusted his position on the couch so he was facing David, squeezing his toes between David’s thigh and the couch. David frowned and rested a palm on the top of Patrick’s foot. “Jeez, honey, your feet are so cold.”

Patrick took a bite of ice cream and rolled his eyes. “I know. My feet are always cold in the winter.”

“But I turned the thermostat up?” David offered, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch and tucking it around Patrick’s feet. He made sure everything was appropriately covered, arranging the blanket for maximum warmth, and when he looked up, Patrick was smiling at him—this small soft thing that gave David butterflies even though they were _ engaged_.

“What?” he asked, trying to hide his own answering smile. 

Patrick shook his head and pressed a kiss to the tips of his own fingers, and then reached over to touch them to David’s cheek. David felt himself flush and he fluttered his eyes closed at the intimate gesture. “Thank you, David.” He wiggled his toes against David’s thigh. “Nice and toasty now.”

**3.**

“I can’t believe you still had baseball practice,” David said as Patrick walked through the door. He frowned and got up to meet him as Patrick pulled off his abundance of outerwear. He interrupted and leaned in for a cheek kiss, making a displeased noise at the coldness of Patrick’s skin. “Patrick, you’re freezing. Why is Ronnie keeping you out so late in this temperature?” 

Patrick laughed. “This is our last practice before the championship series against Thornbridge, so you’ll get your wish, babe.” He toed off his shoes and padded into the bathroom for his quick post-practice shower while David went to the kitchen to check on the soup he had simmering. By the time he was done setting their dinner and wine out on the table, Patrick was done changing into pajamas, and he looked exhausted.

David knew Patrick had spent all day in the back both doing inventory, and working on next year's projections (Patrick had consistently corrected David with what he was really doing, but David was going to stick with projections), while David worked the sales floor. They were busier now that people from neighboring towns were coming in to shop. Their booth at the county fall festival had generated a lot of new business for them. Then, after a long day in the back Patrick had agreed to help Alexis with something that David didn’t listen to her explain, and then he’d gone to baseball practice in this frigid weather. 

“Here, let’s eat on the couch,” David offered when he thought about how tired Patrick must be. Patrick nodded sleepily and sat down with a quiet groan, accepting his bowl of soup with a grateful smile. David set their wine on the coffee table, flipped on HGTV for some background noise, and snuggled in as close as possible while still being able to eat. 

They ate quietly, making comments about home improvement and vague dreamy thoughts about what their first house might be like, and eventually David ended up with his head on Patrick’s shoulder while Patrick carded fingers through his hair, sighing periodically. David lifted his head after the third sigh and frowned. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Patrick shook his head. “Nothing” He pressed a kiss to David’s cheek. “Just a long day.”

David bit his lip in thought. “Here,” he said leaning up and scooting over on the couch. “Let me rub your feet.” Patrick looked at him like he’d just suggested keeping his sweaters on hangers and stretching out the shoulders. 

“You want to…touch my feet…?”

David rolled his eyes. “Just swing ‘em up here before I change my mind.”

Hesitant, Patrick shuffled himself around and gingerly put his feet in David’s lap. “You know I went to baseball practice tonight, right?” David pulled his hands away from where they were hovering over Patrick’s feet.

“Ugh, why would you _ remind _ me about that? I’m trying to do a nice thing!”

Patrick smiled sleepily. “Just trying to save you from sweaty sock germs,” he teased, wiggling his toes. 

“Well I doubt your feet are sweaty _ now_. You showered.” He tentatively laid a hand on the top of Patrick’s feet—and immediately made a totally embarrassing squawking sound. “Jesus, Patrick your feet are freezing!” David wiggled his own toes inside his cozy socks. 

“Yes, David. My feet are always cold. I feel like we have been over this before.” 

David hummed in agreement, but took Patrick’s foot in his hands anyway, pressing his thumbs into the arch in a sweeping motion. Patrick groaned, biting his lip. “Good?” David said.

Patrick nodded and his eyes fluttered closed. “Mm.”

Turning his attention back to the television, David continued his massage until both of Patrick’s feet were warm to the touch, and Patrick looked ten seconds away from being fully asleep. 

“Mmkay, time for bed.” David gave Patrick’s thigh a shake to rouse him. “I’ll clean up here.”

Patrick mumbled something of assent and sat up before flopping forward to give David a clumsy kiss on the mouth. David kissed back through a laugh, and nudged Patrick up and off the couch. Patrick was in bed and asleep before David finished bringing their bowls and glasses to the kitchen.

  


**4.**

David arrived back at the apartment well after the store’s normal closing time, having just worked late for a calligraphy workshop. Twyla’s… eccentric… aunt had approached them about using their space for her and five or six club members to gather for their next meeting, as they were outgrowing the small room at the back of her flower shop. He’d already eaten—he’d grabbed a grilled cheese at the Cafe because the soup of the day was 1) edible and 2) David’s favorite grilled cheese partner: tomato.

Patrick sat up from where he was laying on the couch as David shook some snow off his coat. “Hi, babe,” he called and climbed over the back of the furniture like a heathen to greet David at the door. David barely had his coat hung up before Patrick all but threw himself into his arms. David let out a soft _ oof _ at the force of it, but wrapped Patrick up anyway. 

“Hello, to you, too, honey,” he said with a laugh. He looked over Patrick’s shoulder to glance at the closing credits of a movie, familiar song filling the apartment, “… Did you watch Homeward Bound again?”

“No,” Patrick mumbled, sniffling into David’s neck. It was clear, though, that he’d just finished watching. David ran a hand up the back of Patrick head, petting down his hair that had been mussed by the couch pillows. 

“Mm, okay, that sounds false, but I’m just gonna let it slide. Did you eat?” Patrick nodded into him. “Okay, let’s go to bed then. I’ll meet you there.” He untangled himself from Patrick’s arms and left him with a kiss on the forehead before heading to the bathroom for his skincare. 

When he returned to the bedroom, Patrick was laying all tucked in on his side, typing furiously on his phone, so David got settled in next to him. He plugged in his phone and picked up his book from the side table, flipping to the bookmarked page. Before he could even finish a paragraph, though, Patrick was reaching over to tug the book out of his hands and leaning up to cover his lips in a heated kiss. 

“Oh,” David parted his lips in a gasp and Patrick went in, filling David’s mouth with the slick heat of his tongue, scooting up the bed and throwing a leg over David’s lap to straddle him. David groaned, encouraging, and let his hands drift down to grab Patrick’s ass beneath his soft pajama pants, pulling him closer. 

Patrick pulled away with a sharp inhale. “David,” he whispered, resting their foreheads together. David blinked his eyes open to see that Patrick’s were still closed and the short rolls of his hips had stilled. 

“Patrick,” David said, and Patrick jerked back with a snort, eyes flying open.

“Oh,” he answered, blinking slowly. “I’m… tired.”

David laughed. “_You _ got on _ my _ lap,” he said. “Go to sleep, honey.” He nudged Patrick back over to his side of the bed with hands on his hips and adjusted their covers back into the correct arrangement. He watched Patrick roll around a few times to get comfortable and then reached over to grab his book from where Patrick had discarded it. He fluffed the pillows behind his back, found his page and started to read in earnest. Five minutes in, just as he finished re-reading the paragraph he’d started earlier, Patrick swung his legs over to tangle with David’s. Patrick was sound asleep but still somehow managed to tuck his toes underneath the cuff of David’s sweatpants. David jumped slightly—Patrick’s feet were _ cold_. 

Patrick mumbled something in his sleep, trying to shove his feet further _ up _ David’s pant leg—David assumed because they were fucking ice cubes—so he tried his best to warm them up squeezing his ankles around them until they felt… less ice cube-y. Patrick sighed and pulled his feet away, rolling over to face the other side of the room before letting out a very loud and unattractive snore.   


**5.**

David jumped as Patrick trudged into the apartment, groaning and dropping his snowy boots to the floor with a thud, letting his gloves flop on top of them.

“Oh, honey,” David said, voice soft and sympathetic as he left his station near the pot of soup on the stove to join Patrick at the door. “I told you to let Roland help my dad and Stevie. He _ likes _ it, for whatever reason.” David brushed flakes from Patrick's shoulders, gently pulling his hat from his head and shaking it over the welcome mat David insisted they get just for this reason: shaking gross salty snow off their clothes. 

“I like it, too,” Patrick murmured. “I don’t mind helping your dad out.”

David didn’t mention that technically Patrick was helping Stevie, but he took the hint. _ That, Patrick—what a nice future son-in-law. _“Mmkay, well, maybe next time you can help him do something indoors,” he suggested, pulling at the zipper on Patrick’s coat. 

Patrick didn’t protest, just looked at David with an amused face that David ignored while he undressed Patrick right in the living room. He got Patrick’s coat off and hung it on the hook, before kneeling in front of him to pull off his thick socks, tugging down his sweatpants with one quick yank, and pulling at the hem of his sweatshirt before Patrick took over and pulled it over his head. 

“Now that I’m almost naked in our living room, what exactly are you planning on doing with me?”

David gripped Patrick’s shoulders, cold even after being under a sweater and coat and said seriously, “Now, I’m going to warm you up,” and steered him towards the bathroom. He sat Patrick down on the closed toilet and turned on the shower to let it heat up before running back out to the kitchen to turn off the chili with beans he’d made. It would keep until David was finished with Patrick. 

When David returned to the bathroom, Patrick had his towel around his shoulders, arms crossed over his chest, shoulders hunched. “Here, honey,” David said leaning over to rub his palms up and down Patrick’s biceps. “The water should be ready, let’s get you hot and steamy, huh.” He waggled his eyebrows dramatically, and Patrick laughed and leaned forward to press his still-cold lips to David’s cheek. 

David make quick work of his own clothes and followed Patrick into the shower, letting Patrick stand under the spray and tilting Patrick’s head back with a hand on his jaw to let the water flow over his hair. He reached for the shampoo, but Patrick grabbed his wrist and backed him up a half step until his shoulders were pressed against the cool tile wall. Nosing along David’s throat, Patrick slid his hand down David’s chest, scratching his short nails through the hair there, and slipped it between their hips to rub at David’s very interested dick. 

“I take it you’re feeling warmer?” David said breathlessly. 

Patrick hummed against David’s throat. “_ So _ warm.” His voice was low and syrupy and he licked into the dip of David’s collarbone, sucking at the drops of water collected there. David shivered, even surrounded by the steam of the shower, as Patrick scraped his teeth up the line of his throat. He moaned out a curse and squeezed at Patrick’s hips, pulling him close to rub their slick cocks together. 

Patrick groaned. “I don’t—why are you so _ sexy _?” He asked, and David didn’t think he was looking for a response, but—

“Hydration and sunscreen, baby,” he choked out, ending on a gasp as Patrick brought a hand up to pinch at his nipple. Patrick bit down on David’s shoulder and wrapped a hand around David’s cock, strokes tight and smooth, as he pulled back to look David in the eye. 

David couldn’t handle the intense look Patrick was giving him, and he thunked his head lightly against the tile, panting into the wet air, as Patrick jerked him, twisting his palm over the head of David’s cock on every upstroke—a well-practiced rhythm that’s taken David apart countless times. Patrick was too far away, not within kissing distance, and that was unacceptable. David tried to lean forward to fit his lips over Patrick’s slick, red mouth, but Patrick pressed his palm against David’s shoulder, pushing him back into the wall—_ hard. _

“I’ve got you, David,” Patrick said, speeding up. “I’m gonna make you come.”

David nodded even though Patrick wasn’t asking a question. “Please,” he breathed. Patrick looked at him with hooded eyes, nails pressing shallow crescents into David’s shoulder, making his eyes roll back at the gentle prick of pain. He jerked his hips forward, fucking into Patrick’s fist, hand clenching at Patrick’s bicep. David squeezed his eyes shut—he was so, so close and Patrick’s fist was tight and perfect around his cock. 

“David.” Patrick slowed his hand to a near stop.

David opened his eyes—he intended to protest—but the look on Patrick’s face made him speechless. “Come for me.” He pushed forward to lick into David’s mouth, sliding a hand from David’s shoulder to rest against the front of his throat. David felt the pressure of Patrick’s hand as he swallowed; felt his orgasm start to spark between his hips; felt Patrick’s hand on his cock, Patrick’s tongue sweeping into his mouth, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

“_Patrick,” _he gasped, his orgasm building and burning and rushing up through him, bucking his hips forward as he came over Patrick’s hand, legs trembling as he leaned heavily against the shower wall. Patrick pulled him forward and David went, leaning heavily against his fiance instead. He groaned softly against Patrick’s neck, catching his breath.

“The water is _ cold _ now, you’re gonna get cold again,” he mumbled, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s shoulders. Patrick wiped his come-covered hand on David’s hip—which David definitely objected to—and laid tiny kissed along David’s shoulder. 

“Mm, I won’t be cold, baby. You’ll keep me warm.”  


**+1**

Patrick finished washing his hands, wincing as he stepped off of the bath mat and onto the cold tile floor. He didn’t generally mind the cold feet, because David always sweetly warmed them back up for him. He never commented on it, knowing if he did David would give him that tucked away smile and feel self-conscious about it. Patrick smiled to himself at the thought of David tucking a blanket around his feet, or letting Patrick wedge his toes between David’s thighs and the couch cushion. 

It was movie night, and David was making some kind of popcorn centric (or was it popcorn tangential?) treat for them while Patrick changed into sweats and a zip-up hoodie. David had agreed, months ago, to keep the thermostat at a reasonable temperature during the winter, but Patrick still got pretty cold at night. He was lucky to have a cozily sweatered fiance around to keep him warm. 

When Patrick came out of the bathroom David was coordinating their movie night set-up on the coffee table—bowl of whatever treat either of them chose, depending on whose turn it was; a variety of drinks (most of which were for David who liked to have a selection to choose from) including water, wine and apple cider; napkins and straws lined up neatly next to their stack of coasters; a bag of Red Vines that David always pretended were for both of them (_ “I got us Red Vines.” “David, you know I don’t eat Red Vines.” “Oh?”) _; and finally, the coziest blanket they had, ready to be tucked around them once they were arranged in their positions on the couch. 

“I got you something!” David said excitedly as Patrick was about to sit down. He was bouncing a little as he held out a small gift bag. Patrick smiled and took the bag, sitting down to rest it in his lap.

“David, when did you get this?” Patrick asked. David was an _ exceptional _ gift-giver—thoughtful and sweet and surprising.

“Oh, before,” David waved his hand off in the distance and sitting down. “Open it!” Patrick peeked into the bag, parting folds of tissue paper, and pulled out three incredibly soft pairs of socks. He looked up at David, touched at the gesture, and saw his barely concealed glee. “Do you like them?”

“David, they’re lovely.” He rubbed one against his cheek—the softness checked out. “But…” he hesitated. He wondered if this was a… hint. David was probably tired of warming his feet (and the rest of him) every night, and then sometimes again in the morning. He must be over the way Patrick tucks his feet between his shins when they are falling asleep. Patrick supposes that’s fair, after all, it wasn’t exactly David’s _ job _ to warm up Patrick’s cold feet. 

“Patrick?” David jolted him out of his thoughts. David was biting his lip, looking nervous.

“It’s because you don’t wanna keep warming my feet up, huh?” He asked, petting over the socks. David face fell and he reached out to still Patrick’s hand

“What? _ No _—no, no, no, of course not! I’m happy to keep you warm, it’s just—it’s gonna get a lot colder! Shoving your toes under my thighs may not cut it for much longer.”

“It’s okay—”

“_Plus_,” David plowed on, “you deserve nice things!” 

Patrick pulled his head back at the volume of David’s voice. 

“Sorry.” David placed a hand on Patrick’s cheek. “Patrick, definitely don’t be thinking that I don’t _ love _ tucking the couch blanket around your feet on movie night—or any other time!—it’s just that I saw these when I was in Elmdale and they’re really nice quality and are also acceptable to wear to bed if you so desire.”

Patrick hummed in understanding, thinking back to the looks on David’s face as he tucked him in, warmed his feet, gave him a blanket. He raised a pair of the socks to his cheek again, loving the feeling against his skin, and looked at David through his lashes.

“I take it you like them?”

“These are very nice, David, thank you. I… they’re _ very _soft.” He kind of wanted to put them on. 

“I know,” David whispered, leaning into a kiss. Patrick dropped the socks in his lap and pulled David closer by the front of his sweater, David pulled away. “Well,” he breathed. “You’re welcome.”

*

The next morning, Patrick woke up with cold feet. He’d gone to bed with a pair of the softest sock of all time fit snugly on his feet—socks he must have kicked off in the middle of the night because they were nowhere to be found. He moved his feet around under the covers to feel for them. When nothing turned up, Patrick simply slid closer to David, sleeping heavily and drooling grossly, and tangled their feet together. David was a furnace basically all night, emitting warmth enough for the both of them, so soon Patrick’s feet were toasty, and he was still sleepy, so he shoved his face back into his pillow and fell asleep thinking about the best way to wake David up later. 


End file.
